


Hot Mess

by justdk



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blind Date, College!Adam, Fluff, Laundromat AU, M/M, NOT love at first sight, date in the woods because that's a thing right, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, ronan has too many briefs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdk/pseuds/justdk
Summary: The first time Adam Parrish meets Ronan Lynch is at the laundromat. He's not a fan of Ronan but damn, this boy has some nice looking briefs.





	1. Hot Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a headcanon by @ronanlynch_amiright: https://ronanlynchamiright.tumblr.com/post/163158434455/i-feel-like-ronan-is-a-briefs-sort-of-guy-like

Adam is a hot mess by the time he’s biked to the laundromat. His shirt doesn’t have a single inch of dry fabric, all of it soaked through by sweat. He locks his bike out front and plucks at his shirt self-consciously. His laundry—all of his clothes except the ones he’s currently wearing—is shoved in a large canvas bag he bought at the thrift store. His cleaner clothes are at the top of the bag and his grimy shop clothes are shoved to the bottom. Adam’s got laundry day down to a science, knowing _exactly_ how much he can stuff into a single load, how much detergent will be required, how many quarters it will take to wash and dry two loads.

The laundromat is almost empty, something else that Adam has planned out; Wednesday nights are the best time to do laundry because half the town is at church and the other half is too busy _not_ being in church to swing by the laundromat. As Adam shoves the door open he notices the only other person inside is a guy who looks to be about his age but that’s all they have in common.

The guy is sitting on top of one of the washers, his head tipped back against the wall, expensive headphones sealed over his ears. He’s totally still, except for his feet, which are braced on the wall of dryers across from him. His heavy black boots tap along to whatever he’s listening to. He’s about the most visually interesting guy Adam’s ever seen in Henrietta and he looks like danger personified: shaved scalp, tattoo ink visible from where his cutaway black wife beater hangs open at the sides. He’s kind of scrawny but not weak looking.

Adam eyes him warily before setting down his bag and pulling the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face; it barely makes a difference. When he looks up the guy is staring at him, well, staring at his stomach. Adam feels the back of his neck heat. He knows that his toned body looks nice but it’s still a surprise to catch people looking, especially when the person in question looks like every bad decision he would make if he ever went to any of the parties his roommates keep inviting him to.

In clear violation of social norms the other guy doesn’t look away and Adam feels his blush creeping to his ears. He picks up his bag and walks forward, pretending not to notice, trying to focus on finding an available washer. The first three are taken, two of them are still running while the third has stopped but the clothes have been left inside. The guy sits on the fourth washer, staring at Adam. It feels like intimidation and Adam bristles. He can see that the fifth washer is available and he waits for the guy to put his legs down so he can get by. Adam makes eye contact and the guy just _smirks_ at him.

“Hey man,” Adam says, his voice cold but civil, “can you move your legs?”

The guy pulls his headphones down around his neck. Adam can hear loud electronica, like what his roommate Chris constantly listens to.

“You gotta pay the toll first,” the guy says. His voice is low, a seductive snarl that makes Adam’s chest feel warm.

“What?” Adam can’t believe this guy. A toll?

The guy cocks his head and gives Adam another appraising look, like he’s trying to decide what he should charge, what Adam can afford. It’s obvious that this guy has money: Beats headphones, Doc Martens, fancy jeans that look beyond distressed, the back piece alone would have cost more than Adam makes in a month working his summer job.

“Your name.” It isn’t a question.

Adam stares back, the heat spreading to his throat. Anger wars with attraction but it’s his pride that wins.

“Fuck you,” Adam shoots back. He puts every ounce of meanness into his voice.

“That’s a hell of a name,” the guy replies, grinning. It makes him look even more handsome. “Your parents must really hate you.”

“Oh, they do,” Adam answers. “You gonna move?”

“Nope.”

It’s that damn smile that pushes Adam over the edge. He hates bastards who think they can do what they want because they’re good looking, because they have money. Adam doesn’t think twice before he knocks the guy’s boots down. They thud against the washer, hollow and loud in the empty laundromat.

The guy _laughs_ and kicks his heels against the washer in rhythm to the beat of his music. He smiles as Adam squeezes by and starts loading his clothes in the washer.

They don’t speak but Adam can feel the other guy’s eyes on him and it makes him feel flustered. His hands shake a little as he feeds quarters in the machine and he drops one. It rolls behind the washer and Adam knows, even as he gets down on his knees to look, that he’s never getting it back. In the narrow space between the machines he sees nothing but dust bunnies. He wants to smack the washer in frustration; it shouldn’t matter but he had brought exactly the correct amount for two loads, washed and dried. He’ll have to forego drying the second load.

Before he can climb to his feet Adam feels something cold touch the side of his neck, by his ear. That smoky, raspy voice says, “I think you dropped this.”

Adam looks up and finds the other guy leaning towards him, holding a quarter between his thumb and index finger like he just pulled it from Adam’s ear. He’s still grinning like he’s been told a dirty joke, but something about his vibe has softened, enough that Adam doesn’t immediately smack his hand away.

Adam palms the quarter, noticing the silvery scars on the guy’s forearms, an out of character detail that nags at him.

“Thanks,” Adam says, adding the quarter to the total in the washer. He selects the wash cycle, load size, and temperature and presses the start button. The washer surges to life and Adam settles against it feeling more tired than he should.

The guy kicks the toe of his boot against Adam’s thigh, demanding his attention. Adam sighs and turns to him, already regretting accepting the quarter.

“So,” the guy asks, “you come here often?”

Adam snorts a laugh. “Really dude? You’re trying to pick me up at the laundromat?”

The guy continues to stare. It’s unnerving.

“Why not?” he asks. “My name is Ronan, by the way.”

“I don’t remember asking.” Adam’s pleased by the harsh frown the guy— _Ronan_ —gives him. “I’m going to go do my homework. Have a nice life.”

Ronan gives a surprised or affronted huff but doesn’t bother Adam as he settles into one of the cracked plastic chairs near the entrance. Adam pulls his textbook out of his battered backpack and starts reading over the week’s assignment. Taking online summer courses seemed like a good use of his time when he signed up for them at the beginning of May but now he’s regretting it.

Adam shifts in his seat, trying to get comfortable. His sweaty shirt is cold against his skin and the seat is murder on his spine. He leans forward, the large textbook open on his knees. From time to time he steals glances at Ronan. The other guy has gone back to listening to his music. He looks better when he’s not being an asshole. Adam finds himself staring too long, thinking too much about Ronan coming onto him. Ronan looks over and catches Adam in the act and Adam flushes before ducking his head and going back to his book. When he looks again Ronan’s eyes are closed but he’s smirking.

After about thirty minutes Adam’s first load is done and he gets up and puts it in the dryer and starts his second load. Ronan intentionally ignores him and Adam tries to not let it bother him. After all, he shut the guy down, what was he expecting? While he’s pulling the last of his dirty clothes from the bag Ronan’s dryer buzzes, the cycle finished.

Ronan hops down and grabs a mesh bag that unfolds neatly. Ronan hip checks Adam as he moves to open the dryer. Adam grits his teeth but before he can come up with a scathing comment he sees what Ronan’s pulling out of the dryer: handful after handful of vibrant, neon-colored briefs. Adam’s mouth goes dry. The brand name, printed on the wide, elastic waistband reads Kalvin Clein but that’s not right. Adam’s never owned Calvin Klein anything but he knows how it’s spelled. The briefs don’t look like cheap knock-offs, though. In fact they look obscenely luxurious.

Ronan leans further into the dryer, digging around for the last of his briefs. Adam doesn’t mean to ogle him but he does, and he sees that custom brand peeking above the top of Ronan’s low-slung jeans, catches a flash of brilliant fuchsia fabric before Ronan pulls out of the dryer, a pair of lime green briefs twirling from his index finger.

Ronan winks at Adam and tosses the last pair on the veritable mountain of undergarments.

“See you later, Fuck You,” Ronan calls over his shoulder as he walks out of the laundromat. Adam watches as Ronan climbs into a sexy BMW and smoothly whips out of the parking lot.

Later that night, when Adam strips out of his clothes to take a much-needed shower, a scrap of paper falls out of the pocket of his jeans. Adam stoops down and picks it up. Scrawled on the back of an ad for a psychic hotline is a number and a name: _Ronan Lynch_. Despite himself, Adam grins and tucks the number in his textbook.


	2. Cold Wash

Ronan Lynch – mysterious boy, obnoxious owner of brilliantly colored briefs – was not an easy a person to forget and yet, Adam forgot about him. Not completely, but enough that Ronan’s number got lost in his papers, his vicious smile shuffled to the recesses of Adam’s thoughts.

Between working and studying Adam’s summer is full. He occasionally texts some college friends and actively avoids anyone from high school. Except for one person, his ex, Blue Sargent. She’s been pestering him to hang out since he returned near the beginning of May but Adam keeps putting it off. As much as he likes Blue he’s not ready to hear about how her life is changing, what with dating two rich boys from Aglionby and traveling the world with them. He admires her open-mindedness but listening to her adventures only makes him feel more lonely. He’s been shit out of luck in the romance department because he’s been too focused on academics to go to the mixers and parties on campus; he would rather have a study buddy than a fuck buddy.

Adam clocks out of work and walks around the building to retrieve his bike. It’s after seven but still baking. He can feel the heat rising up from the asphalt, radiating off the side of the shop; it’s like being in an oven. The seat of his bike is scalding because he keeps forgetting to put it in the shade. Tomorrow, he’ll do that tomorrow.

Adam is so preoccupied that it takes him several seconds to realize that someone is yelling his name.

“Adam Parrish! Boy, you better not be ignoring me after I came all the way down here to see you!” Adam winces at the harsh tone but when he turns he sees that Blue is smiling, her dark hair pulled back, her skin tanned almost as dark as his. She looks good.

“Hey, Blue,” Adam replies, clutching the handlebars of his bike to keep from going in for a hug.

“Hay is for horses,” Blue teases. “Are you just going to stand there? It’s been over a year, Adam. I deserve a hug or a high five or  _something_.”

Adam ducks his head. “Yeah, you do. But I’m all sweaty and gross.” He holds out his palm, up high, making Blue jump for it.

“Asshole,” Blue mutters as her feet touch down. “Come on, we’re getting dinner. And don’t even start with the ‘I need a shower.’ This is Nino’s, no one will be able to smell you over the oregano.”

Adam wants to argue but he’s avoided Blue for long enough and he’s hungry. Plus, he really is happy to see Blue again. And it’ll be nice to eat with someone else for a change.

“Fine, you win,” Adam relents. “Climb up on the handle bars.”

Adam holds the bike steady while Blue positions herself on the bars. It’s precarious but they’re not going too far, just far enough that riding is preferable to walking. Staring at Blue’s back and the strong lines of her arms and legs brings back a lot of good memories. Adam feels a bit wistful as he pedals them towards downtown. Blue cheerfully laughs and hollers as they bump over the cracked sidewalks, picking up speed as they zoom down hills. One of the last times they did this they crashed and Adam still has the scars on his elbows to prove it.

They get to Nino’s in one piece and Adam’s sides hurt from laughing so much. He can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. Blue chats up the hostess, one of her former coworkers, and gets them seated in a prime booth by the window. Since it’s summer the pizzeria is less full than usual and the majority of the customers are townies: couples out on dates, families with small children scribbling on coloring pages, and a few summering Aglionby boys who look stoned. Blue orders the pizza (mushroom lovers) and Adam adds a side of garlic knots.

“Fancy,” Blue jokes when the appetizer arrives along with their waters.

“Hungry,” Adam replies, tearing into the food. Blue copies him and within minutes the garlic knots are gone. Blue sucks melted butter off her fingers while Adam fastidiously wipes his off on a napkin; he’s keenly aware that up until half an hour ago his fingers were coated with grime and grease.

“So…” Blue starts, her voice pitched inquisitively. Adam’s stomach clenches. He knows what she’s about to ask, can hear it in the teasing lilt. “Got a girlfriend yet?”

Adam shakes his head and stares out the window. He thought he saw someone duck around the side of a car…

“Boyfriend?”

“No, Blue,” Adam sighs, turning to look at her. “I’m in college to learn, not date.”

“Hmm.” Blue traces patterns in the condensation on the side of her glass.

“What about your boyfriends? Are y’all still a thing?”

Blue perks up and then she won’t shut up. Not that Adam minds, as long as she’s not asking about his love life he can be content listening to hers. Gansey and Henry both sound like great guys and they certainly make Blue happy. Their pizza arrives and that puts the conversation on hold for a bit. Adam wolfs down the first two pieces before slowing and savoring the last two. Blue asks about college and then he’s the one who won’t shut up. He worked so hard to get there – saving money from three jobs, taking classes at the local college, studying above and beyond what he was learning in the classroom, volunteering (which is how he managed to get in the good graces of St. Agnes), interning – it’s like his entire life has been about getting into college.

Blue nods along, asks good questions. They talk about her plans now that her year of traveling is done. They talk about old classmates, Henrietta, Blue’s family; Blue doesn’t ask after Adam’s folks and he’s grateful.

“Gelato?” Blue asks. “My treat.”

Adam doesn’t think he can eat another bite but gelato does sound good so he follows her out of Nino’s and down the street. It’s gotten dark, the streetlights casting a soft golden glow. They get to the shop near closing time but the kid working behind the counter welcomes them in before casting a harried look at the tall guy looming over the counter; he’s there with a smudgy looking boy in an Aglionby uniform.

The tall guy turns and Adam instantly recognizes him and blushes, taking a step back.

“Fuck You?” Ronan asks, his voice sounding both surprised and angry. “And, god damn me, Sargent?” The gelato guy makes a strangled sound each time that Ronan swears and Adam feels the irrational need to apologize for Ronan’s behavior.

“Ronan! Noah!” Blue rushes forward and playfully jabs at Ronan’s face before yanking him into the world’s most awkward side hug. The other boy laughs happily when Blue gives him a full hug and a kiss on the cheek. “What’s going on?”

“Noah wanted gelato and I had nothing else to do so here we are,” Ronan explains. He’s ignoring Adam and shoveling spoonfuls of mint chocolate chip gelato into his mouth.

Blue orders dark chocolate gelato and Adam gets peaches and cream, sneaking glances at Ronan’s handsome and haughty face.

“How do y’all know each other?” Adam asks the group but only Blue answers.

“Ronan and Noah lived with Gansey. They’re all raven boys. Oh, don’t make that face, Ronan.”

Adam thinks about that as they leave the shop and wander over to one of the sidewalk benches. He had guessed that Ronan was rich, and finding out that Ronan is Aglionby is the only confirmation he needs. It makes him wonder why Ronan was hanging out at the laundromat in the first place, and why he had given Adam his number.

“So,” Ronan says, after Blue has updated him on the current whereabouts of Gansey and Henry, “who’s your pal? Boyfriend number three?”

Adam glowers at Ronan, determined to not say a word to him if he can help it.

“This is Adam Parrish,” Blue says, “and no, he’s not my boyfriend. But we did date for a little while in high school. About a month, right Adam?” Adam nods, staring into his gelato bowl.

Ronan snorts and steals a spoonful of Adam’s gelato. “Adam Parrish.” Ronan says his name like it’s a challenge. “Better than Fuck You, I guess.”

“Huh?” Blue gives Adam a bemused look.

“Private joke,” Adam mutters, glaring at Ronan.

The other guy, Noah, watches everything with an all-knowing look, his mouth set in a perpetual grin, his eyes sparkling like he knows all of their secrets, like he thinks they’re all hilarious.

“Dude, Noah, you look creepy as fuck,” Ronan growls, scuffing his hand through Noah’s messy hair. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Oh, just thinking that it’s wonderful how you and Blue have the same taste in men.”

Ronan and Blue choke at the same time. Adam bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“I _don’t_ like Henry!” Ronan protests.

“Oh, please,” Blue huffs. “You pick on him mercilessly. Which is basically the asshole equivalent of pulling on pigtails.”

“What—no. No. I do that because… because… he’s just so annoying!” Ronan flounders for words. Adam’s getting very curious about these mysterious boys, Henry and Gansey, especially if they managed to captivate Blue _and_ Ronan. “And we’ve already discussed Gansey!”

“Uh-huh. ‘He’s like my brother!’ Well, you never look at your actual brothers like that, thank God.” Noah howls with laughter and Ronan throws his gelato bowl at Blue but she neatly dodges it. Ronan goes in for a tackle and Blue takes off down the street, Ronan hot on her heels. Noah and Adam stand together and watch the chase unfold.

“You didn’t call him,” Noah says, so quiet that Adam almost misses it.

“I forgot,” Adam admits. Noah looks skeptical so Adam continues, “Look, I’ve been busy. I didn’t forget about Ronan—how could I? I just kept forgetting to call or text and… anyways what would be the point? I’m going back to school in a couple months.”

Noah shrugs. “You should tell him that. He really thought you would call.”

Adam feels weirdly guilty; it’s like hot coals in his stomach. “Just because a guy gives me his number doesn’t mean I’m obligated to contact him.”

Ronan stalks towards them with Blue draped over one shoulder like a sack. She kicks and flails and laughs and threatens to call Gansey. Adam feels wonderstruck by the sight of them, Blue looking so uninhibited and boisterous, Ronan looking like… like the type of guy he should call. Ronan sets Blue down and gives Adam an indecipherable look.

“You okay?” he asks.

“What?” Adam’s voice sounds weird in his own ears, almost breathless. He swallows around the tight feeling in his throat. “Oh, yeah, I’m good.”

Ronan shrugs and starts talking to Noah about something but Adam can’t get past the flush on Ronan’s pale skin, the way his chest is still rising and falling hard with his labored breaths from running around. The scars on his arms stand out even more, white against faint pink. And Ronan’s arms… Adam had noticed at the laundromat that Ronan had amazing arms but standing this close to him, able to observe all the little details of him, is bringing it home in a big way that Ronan Lynch is undeniably gorgeous.

Adam looks away and catches Noah smirking at him. Noah makes the “call me” gesture, wriggling his pale eyebrows dramatically. Adam rolls his eyes in response. Blue and Ronan continue to carry on like rowdy siblings until Adam announces that he has to go home. He offers to walk Blue home but Ronan insists on driving her. He also extends the offer to Adam but Adam declines; he has his bike and he’s not quite ready to trust his life to Ronan’s driving.

Back at St. Agnes Adam digs through his papers until he finds the flyer with Ronan’s number. He carefully adds the ten digits to his list of contacts. Hitting save has never felt like this before. He feels like he’s making a promise, like he’s making a Big Decision. He gazes at Ronan’s name until his screen goes black. Adam hugs his pillow to his chest, smelling the soft scent of detergent, and dreams of a beautiful boy with a killer smile and a laugh as warm and wild as a summer night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think some folks were thinking that we would immediately get a phone call or date but tbh I don't think that's Adam's style. I hope y'all won't find sticking around for that date because I promise it's coming!


	3. Delicates

Adam has a rare day off work and he sleeps in, waking up slow and lazy. The apartment above St. Agnes is perpetually warm during the summer meaning that more often than not Adam sleeps naked, waking up with the sheets pushed to the side of the mattress or strewn on the floor. Today the sheets are kicked to the end of the bed but Adam still feels hot and stifled. He realizes that he’s been hugging his pillow to his chest, curled up in the fetal position. He uncurls and settles the pillow beneath his head. Maybe it’s the heat or a combination of getting more sleep than usual albeit not restful sleep, but Adam does not want to get out of bed. He has no plans other than catching up on schoolwork but that can wait. Idly he wonders what Ronan is doing. He pulls his phone to him and goes to his contacts and considers his next course of action.

He could call Ronan or text him. He mentally composes several messages but they all sound banal or too friendly. He and Ronan aren’t friends; he doesn’t know what they are but he knows Ronan’s interested in him and he’s more than a little curious about Ronan. Adam turns over on his stomach and grins into his pillow. It’s probably a little scandalous to call Ronan while he’s naked in bed but he does it anyway, wanting to hear Ronan’s voice, wanting to see where this is going to go.

The phone rings several times and Adam waits, feeling impatient and nervous as the seconds pass. He checks the time on his phone: 10am. Ronan should be awake, right? Adam’s just about to give up when the call is answered though for several moments he’s greeted, not by a voice, but by a cacophony of sounds then, finally, a muted tirade of swearing. “Jesus fuck!” A muffled thud. “Bugger me sideways!” Scrambling. Adam snickers and rolls onto his back, his forearm draped over his eyes as he tries to imagine what’s happening on the other end.

“Lynch,” Ronan finally answers. His voice is hoarse, raspy, and Adam laughs again. “Fuck You? I mean, Adam?”

Adam covers his mouth to muffle his laugh before replying. “How did you know?”

“No one else would call me before noon.”

“Ah.” Adam grins and rubs his tired eyes. “Not an early riser?”

“Fuck no,” Ronan grumbles.

Adam waits for Ronan to say something, listening to Ronan’s uneven breaths. “What were you doing when I called? It was really loud.”

Ronan huffs and there’s the sound of a mattress creaking. Adam imagines Ronan trying to get comfortable in bed and he feels an unexpected thrill thinking about how they’re both in bed, talking. He wonders what Ronan’s wearing. He’s not going to ask. He’s _not_.

“I _was_ sleeping,” Ronan complains. His voice is husky, probably from sleep. “Like I said, no one calls this early so when my phone rang I threw it at the wall and it ricocheted and went under my bed. I think I accidentally swiped to answer before I threw it so that’s why you heard everything.”

Adam chuckles softly. “Sorry to wake you. Should I hang up?”

“No!” Ronan’s answer comes swiftly and it surprises Adam. He cradles the phone to his ear, his chest flushing with warmth. “I mean… I’m awake now.”

“Okay,” Adam replies. That warm feeling is building, moving south. He shifts around as quietly as possible, back onto his stomach.

“Are you… are you…” Ronan stops and gives up. “When did you get up?”

“Hmm, not too long ago. I have today off so I slept in. Haven’t even gotten out of bed.”

Ronan is quiet for a beat too long before he answers. “Oh.” Adam presses his face against his pillow and bites down on the corner for a second. “So are you free today?”

“More or less. I have some stuff for school but not a lot. Are you free?” Adam’s heart has kicked up a few notches and his face feels hot.

“I’m always free,” Ronan answers quickly. “I mean, I’m not doing anything special today if you maybe want to hang out?”

Adam squeezes his pillow and kicks his feet against the mattress. “Yeah, that would be great,” Adam says. “I could meet you somewhere or did you have something in mind?”

There’s a strange noise coming through the phone. It sounds suspiciously like someone jumping up and down on a bed but Adam isn’t prepared to believe that Ronan Lynch is doing that.

“How about I pick you up and we’ll figure it out? I actually hate talking on the phone.”

Adam laughs. “But you gave me your number!”

“How the fuck were we going to talk otherwise?” Ronan asks. “I couldn’t very well give you a carrier pigeon.”

“There’s e-mail or social media,” Adam suggests.

The bouncing noises continue. “That’s even worse,” Ronan gasps into the phone.

“Agree to disagree,” Adam concedes. “Fine, come pick me up.”

“Where do you live?”

“Do you know St. Agnes?”

The line goes dead quiet for a moment before Ronan answers, “Yeah.”

“Well I live in an apartment above the church office.”

Ronan’s silent for several beats and then cackles loudly, right into the phone. Adam holds the phone away from his ear, squinting but still smiling. “Oh my God, are you fucking shitting me?” Ronan asks.

“No, I am not. By the way, did anyone ever tell you that you swear a lot?”

“Pfft,” Ronan scoffs. “My brother, all the damn time. I just… I go to mass at St. Agnes. Or I used to. Whatever. I know where it is.”

Adam nods even though he’s having a difficult time picturing Ronan sitting through a church service. He imagines what Ronan would look like in a dark suit and tie and… it’s a nice image.

“So,” Ronan’s voice breaks into his reverie and Adam startles like he’s been caught looking at something he shouldn’t. “I can pick you up in an hour? We could get something to eat?”

“Yeah. Yes. Perfect,” Adam fumbles his words, trying to regain his cool. “I just need to get dressed.”

“You’re not… not dressed?” Ronan’s voice suddenly sounds much rougher. Adam blushes even though Ronan can’t see him.

“Ah… not yet.”

“Oh.”

It’s stupid and Adam really shouldn’t ask but now he’s curious and he knows Ronan owns a lot of briefs… “Are you dressed?” Adam flips to his back, closing his eyes. It feels ridiculously hot in his apartment.

“I’m wearing briefs.” Ronan’s voice is deliberately teasing. Adam laughs quietly.

“Yeah? What color?”

“That’s a secret. Maybe you’ll find out later.”

Before Adam can think of a witty reply – his brain is, admittedly, not functioning at its best at the moment – Ronan hangs up.

Adam stares at his phone watching until the screen goes dark. He wipes the smudges off and finds that he can’t seem to slow his racing heart or cool the fire that’s burning under his skin. He gets up and heads to the tiny bathroom for a long, cold shower. He scrubs at his sensitive skin and wonders how talking to a guy he barely knows has got him all bothered.

—–

Ronan shows up punctually an hour later. Adam has spent most of that time fussing with his appearance even though he knows he’s being ridiculous. Ronan has seen him, both times, when he was disgustingly dirty and sweaty. Maybe that’s why he feels pressured to make a better impression this time around. He pulls at the neck of his shirt, feeling self-conscious in the plain white tee. Most of his clothes are in the laundry bag, again, so he has to settle on his khaki cargo pants. He examines his reflection in the small bathroom mirror and sighs. At least he’s not covered in grease or sporting fresh bruises. The knock at the door finally puts an end to his fidgeting and Adam hurries to answer it, feeling a rush of nerves.

Ronan is lounging against the railing that circles the tiny landing outside Adam’s apartment. He looks so effortlessly cool and handsome that it’s just not fair.

“Hey,” Adam says, smiling easily. He tells himself not to slouch against the doorjamb, does it anyway.

Ronan swallows and nods his head. His shoulders and cheekbones are flushed a very light pink that Adam finds endearingly attractive.

“Hey,” Ronan answers. He smiles a little and there it is – that too direct stare that caught Adam’s attention back at the laundromat. It feels like a tractor beam, pulling him in. He’s out of the door before he realizes that he’s taken a step. Ronan’s grin is wider now, even his eyes – blue, blue eyes – are sparkling with amusement or attraction or… Adam runs out of adjectives.

“Breakfast?” Ronan asks. “Or, I guess it’s closer to lunch but fuck it.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels.

“Yeah,” Adam replies, clearing his throat because why is he feeling this parched all of a sudden? His stomach growls unhelpfully. “Let me just lock up.”

Ronan heads down the stairs, each step creaking loudly under his weight. He waits at the bottom for Adam, posture relaxed, watching as Adam skips lightly down the steps; he’s figured out how to climb them without making a racket and he’s kind of proud of that.

The BMW is warm; the windows rolled all the way down, and in the passenger seat are two white paper bags, the bottoms and sides shiny with slowly spreading splotches of grease. Adam picks them up and takes a seat, pulling the seatbelt over his chest and fastening it. Ronan buckles up and starts the car; AC blasting out like an arctic blizzard, music loud enough that Adam wants to cover his ears. Ronan turns the music down and takes one of the bags from Adam.

“Breakfast is served!” Ronan declares. He pulls a pair of sunglasses from above the visor and puts them on. Adam stares at his reflection in the mirror-like lenses of the aviators. He’s kind of pleased to see that he doesn’t look as out of place as he feels. “You’re not like vegetarian or anything?” Ronan’s voice carries a hint of worry.

“Nope,” Adam answers, digging into the bag. Inside are a wrapped biscuit and a small container of potato wedges. Adam unwraps what turns out to be a hot and very greasy bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. “Oh my God this looks so good,” Adam moans. “I haven’t had one of these since… I don’t even know.” He takes a big bite while Ronan watches with a pleased expression.

“I also got coffee. And water. And orange juice.” Ronan grabs a plastic bag full of cold bottles. Adam takes one of each, sticking them in the pocket of the door.

“Thanks,” Adam says. “It’s really nice of you to do all this.”

Ronan shrugs and unwraps his own biscuit before reversing out of the unpaved packing lot. “Well since I’m kidnapping you for the day I figured I needed to feed you first.”

Adam almost chokes on his biscuit. “You’re what?!”

“You said you weren’t busy.”

“I meant… well, yeah, I’m not busy but…”

Ronan takes a right heading, not into town, but away, towards the mountains.

“It’s gonna be fun, trust me.” Ronan somehow manages to eat, steer, and shift all at once. Adam watches with horrified fascination.

“We’re going to die.” Adam mutters, and shoves one of the seasoned potato wedges into his mouth.

“You’re not going to die,” Ronan reassures him. “That would be a terrible first date.”

“First?” Adam teases. “You’re implying there will be more?”

Ronan turns onto 74 and accelerates, his words almost lost in the roar of the wind and the growl of the engine. “I hope so!”


	4. Agitation

They’re nearly out of Henrietta before Ronan finally hints at where they’re going. He tosses his trash in the backseat and pops open the glove box. Adam startles as a mass of papers and random items comes cascading into his lap.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ronan mutters as he pulls up to the stop sign and starts digging into the pile. Adam’s face turns bright red as Ronan’s hand accidentally brushes against his crotch and it’s all he can do not to jump at every slight point of contact. “I’m trying to find…” Ronan trails off before grabbing a menu for Nino’s. “Found it!”

Adam can finally breathe again once Ronan settles back into his seat but his heart is still racing. He starts shoving the papers back into the glove box, his hands trembling, making the process clumsier than it should be.

“Okay, so let’s see,” Ronan eases the car through the intersection, half of his attention on the crayon text scrawled across the menu. His forehead is scrunched up, his eyes hidden behind his expensive and flashy aviators. “Fuck, I can’t read his handwriting for shit.” He shakes the paper and flips it upside down. The BMW swerves over the centerline before drifting back into the right hand lane. Adam bites his tongue to keep from swearing and clutches the door handle; he’s having flashbacks to all the horrific times he was a passenger while Blue learned to drive.

“Can I take a look?” Adam offers. His voice sounds a bit high so he clears his throat and tries again. “I’d really feel better if you have both eyes on the road.”

“Knock yourself out,” Ronan replies, handing him the paper. “Noah said he had written down a scavenger hunt for us to follow but I can’t even begin to figure out what that shit says.”

Despite not knowing their destination Ronan accelerates smoothly, sending them careening around turns, heading ever closer to the mountains. Adam focuses on the menu instead of blatantly staring at Ronan’s fingers tightening around the gearshift only inches from his knee. Noah’s handwriting is every bit as terrible as Ronan said. The light blue crayon, ghostly against the menu text, is almost impossible to see.

“I think it says ‘Take a selfie with a wild raven.’” Ronan snorts and shifts gears, sending them racing up a steep hill.

“He would specify wild, cheeky bastard,” Ronan comments and scrubs the back of his head. “That’s okay though. I know some places where they roost. What else?”

“Uh, oh, okay. ‘Pick some berries.’” Adam isn’t sure what to make of this list. He’s not mentally prepared for a day in the wilderness with Ronan. “Is Noah the outdoorsy type or what?”

“Noah is… _different_.” Ronan says ‘different’ like it’s a question or a synonym for something too complicated to neatly explain. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the muffled beat of his music. “But I’m kinda surprised by all the nature tasks. He’s usually the type to sulk around in shadowy corners.”

Adam nods like he understands. He decides that Noah must be extremely emo and is getting some sort of twisted pleasure from sending them on an outdoor scavenger hunt.

“Alright. Up next is ‘Get a tan and/or jump in a river.’ I’m guessing the river part is for you.” Adam grins at Ronan who flicks his ear in retaliation.

“Yeah, yeah I’m pasty, don’t rub it in,” Ronan complains. The tops of his ears are bright pink from blushing and Adam can’t reign in the impulse to reach over and tweak Ronan’s ear, making him curse and nearly swerve off the road. Adam yelps in surprise and shoves his hands under his thighs where they won’t get him into any more trouble, at least for the rest of the ride.

Ronan touches his ear lightly, the blush spreading down his neck and across his collarbones.

“You’re a menace, Adam Parrish,” Ronan growls.

“Oh, I’ve been upgraded from Fuck You?” Adam teases. He twists in his seat so he’s sitting sideways facing Ronan. The mountains are gorgeous but he’d rather soak up the sight of flustered Ronan. It feels like payback for Ronan’s obnoxious staring the first time they met.

“I’m rethinking that decision,” Ronan says. He takes his hand off the gearshift and braces it on the headrest, right next to Adam’s face. “You’re not as charming as you think you are.”

Adam laughs, surprised and amused at the same time. “You’re one to talk.”

“I _know_ I’m an asshole,” Ronan says, his lips pulled back in a fierce smile that is 100% not charming. In fact it’s the type of smile that should make Adam want to back away slowly. Ronan looks over and their eyes catch and Adam feels that slow simmering burn flare, sharp and hot. He sucks in his lower lip and leans forward without even thinking about it, caught up again in the magnetism that is unique to Ronan Lynch.

Ronan’s fingers tighten on the headrest, the leather squeaking in complaint, the veins and tendons in Ronan’s forearm standing out sharply as his entire arm tenses. Adam feels like he can’t breathe or speak. Then Ronan laughs and breaks the charged tension between them. He tousles Adam’s hair, undoing all the work Adam went to in order to get a somewhat stylish look.

“I’m glad your self-knowledge is so on point,” Adam manages, softening the sting with a mischievous smile.

“Feisty,” Ronan replies. He moves his hand from the headrest to the steering wheel and sticks his left arm out the window, cutting through the air as they zip and weave up the mountain. Adam leans back against the door and wonders what Ronan would do if he stuck his feet in Ronan’s lap… One look at the steep drop over the side of the safety rails thoroughly kills the impulse but he lets the daydream play out as they speed onwards, following signs for Skyline Drive.

The noise of the wind in the car makes further communication difficult without yelling so Ronan turns up his music and Adam pretends to like it, bobbing his head in time to the electronic tracks. He closes his eyes and imagines that they’re in a video game or movie, the music a driving, heart-thumping score for some great adventure or quest. Yeah, the great outdoor scavenger hunt quest devised by Ronan’s friend and wingman. It’s so absurd that Adam smiles, imagining how he would spin this story for his suitemates.  _Yeah so I met this guy at a laundromat and come to find out he’s friends with my ex. So one thing led to another and he took me on a scavenger hunt in the mountains and we almost died because he couldn’t keep his eyes on the road._ No way they would believe him. Adam can’t even believe it. He has no idea how this happened or how it will end.

The car slows down and Adam opens his eyes. They’re at one of the entrances to the scenic highway and Ronan is giving him a worried look.

“Are you carsick?” Ronan asks.

“What? No. No, I’m fine,” Adam answers. He sits up and pats his stomach. “I was just… thinking.”

“Oh. Okay. You looked pretty spaced out so I didn’t know if you were trying not to barf or what.”

Once they get through the entrance—fee paid, map received—Ronan takes a left, the car creeping forward at the posted speed. Adam expects Ronan to grumble at the slow pace but instead Ronan is busy scanning the trees and sky, hunched over the steering wheel and peering out the windshield like a grandma.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks.

“Looking for ravens, of course. Usually they’re at higher elevations but we might see one at any time. You look, too.”

Adam obliges, hanging out the window, craning his neck around, looking and listening for the odd croaking call of ravens. The sun feels nice on his face and arms and neck and the air has that wonderful mountain smell of fresh air, pine, moss, and stone.

“Hey, don’t fall out!” Ronan yells at him. “You’re like some over eager dog sticking your body out the window like that.”

Adam looks over his shoulder at Ronan and sticks his tongue out. “I could pant and whine, you know, to make my impression really convincing.”

Ronan’s face goes beet red. “If you want me to wreck the BMW, yeah, go ahead.”

Adam is about to say something even more provocative when he sees a flash of black wings fly by. “Raven!”

“What? Where?” Ronan slows the car to a stop as Adam scoots forward, scanning the trees.

“Right about… there! See? In the oak tree. It’s a couple branches up.”

Ronan leans across Adam, his shoulder brushing Adam’s chest. “Oh yeah. Good eyes, Parrish.”

Adam blushes and nods. “How are we going to take a picture with it? If we get too close it’ll fly away.”

Ronan guides the car over and parks at one of the gravel pull offs. He gets out of the car and motions for Adam to follow him. They walk along the road, heading back towards the raven. Adam feels like he should be tiptoeing, not boldly approaching the trees and the large, black carrion bird.

“Here’s the plan,” Ronan whispers. “I’ll distract the raven. You take the picture.”

“You’ll what?” Adam asks but Ronan’s already moving through the brush at the edge of the forest, pushing aside weeds and wildflowers, his footsteps loud as he crushes sticks and leaves beneath his boots. Adam pulls his phone out of his pocket and hastily opens the camera app, switching to selfie mode, before sneaking after Ronan. Ronan is standing at the base of the oak tree, making coaxing noises and occasionally croaking. The raven watches with its head tilted to the side, beak slightly open. Ronan gives up on bird speak and tries again in English.

“C’mon you lazy bastard,” Ronan growls. “I don’t have all day. Get your stubborn ass down here.” The bird simply fluffs its wings and taps its beak against the branch. “Fuck it, we’re gonna have to climb this motherfucker,” Ronan tells Adam.

“I- what? I don’t climb trees, Ronan,” Adam protests.

Ronan rounds on him. “What do you mean you don’t climb trees? Did you not have a childhood?”

Adam doesn’t have an easy answer for that so he just shrugs. Ronan watches him, hands on his hips, like a disappointed PE coach. Finally he sighs and motions for Adam to come closer.

“It’s fine. I’ll give you some help. Here, step into my hands, then onto my shoulders. You should be able to reach the first branch from there.”

Adam stares at Ronan’s cupped hands, at his wonderfully muscled shoulders. He can’t imagine _stepping on_ Ronan, an act that feels too intimate for some inane scavenger hunt.

“C’mon, man,” Ronan urges, “I feel like a jackass standing here with my hands like this.”

“Oh, fine,” Adam grumbles. He’s already plotting some sort of revenge on Noah for making them do this. He steps up to Ronan until they’re standing chest to chest. Adam can smell Ronan’s unique scent; he’s only caught brief whiffs of it before now. Ronan smells like a mixture of freshly cut hay, car exhaust, and salty sweat. Adam’s heart gives a painful thump as he grabs Ronan’s shoulders and presses his weight on him, trusting Ronan to hold him up as he steps into his hands.

Ronan doesn’t grunt or complain as Adam slowly pushes himself up, his hands now pressed against the trunk of the tree. He feels unsteady but that’s all him, Ronan is solid beneath him as Adam steps up again, his Converse planted on either side of Ronan’s head, Ronan’s hands now holding his ankles until Adam can find a good grip on the branch.

Adam scrambles onto the branch, clinging gracelessly to the trunk of the tree. He watches with admiration as Ronan walks away from the tree and then runs forward, up the trunk, before latching onto the branch and pulling himself up. Adam wants to clap but he’s afraid he’ll fall or scare the raven.

“Holy shit,” Adam breathes, turning to face Ronan who is, again, standing extremely close. “How did you do that?”

Ronan brushes dirt off his palms and grins. “I’m addicted to martial arts movies and I have too much free time.”

“Oh, good. God, I thought you were going to confess to being a secret vigilante or something.”

Ronan snorts and moves closer, his arms bracketed around Adam’s head. “That’s not the type of secret I want to confess right now.” His face is so close to Adam’s; Adam can feel Ronan’s breath on his cheek, every detail of Ronan’s face is blurring as he leans in closer—

An indignant squawk interrupts the moment and both their heads snap up, looking at the raven perched above them.

“Quick! Take a picture!” Ronan hisses into Adam’s ear. Adam fumbles, trying to get the phone out of his back pocket but he’s wobbling too much to manage it.

“I can’t,” Adam whispers. “It’s in my back pocket. Can you?” He’s too flustered to finish the question. Ronan does a long, deliberate exhale before reaching around Adam and slipping his long fingers into his pocket. Adam stares at Ronan’s collarbone and thinks of nothing nothing nothing, definitely not about how Ronan’s thigh feels pressed against his, or Ronan’s warm breath on his ear, or how his jeans feel way too tight right now.

“Got it,” Ronan murmurs. He holds the camera out, angling it to get them and the surly raven in the shot. Adam can’t believe the raven is still here; it must be remarkably tame. “Okay, on three. One, two, three…” Ronan takes a series of shots and finishes right as the raven decides it has had enough and takes flight. Adam watches it go and then slumps against Ronan, eyeing the ground warily; it seems like a long way down. “Whoa now,” Ronan says, wrapping an arm around Adam’s waist and holding him steady. “Are you afraid of heights or something?”

“No, but I’m feeling a little overwhelmed,” Adam admits. Leaning on Ronan is actually amazing and definitely worth the slight vertigo.

“Right,” Ronan nods sharply. “Let’s get you settled. Here, I’ll hold your hand, you sit on the branch.” Adam gladly takes Ronan’s hand and sits. “Good. I’ll jump down and then you’ll lower yourself and I’ll catch you.”

“Okay,” Adam agrees. Ronan leaps down, landing like the ten-foot drop is nothing. He stands next to the trunk, long arms reaching up for Adam. Adam swallows his unease and slowly shifts around so his stomach is against the branch, his legs hanging down, his arms wrapped around the branch. He closes his eyes and feels Ronan grasp his shoes and pull. Adam lets his body slide down, his feet now bumping Ronan’s stomach, his knees knocking into his jaw. He’s stretched as much as he can, his arms trembling from holding onto the branch.

“You’re doing great, Adam,” Ronan calls to him. “You can let go now, I got you.”

Adam doesn’t want to let go. He can imagine the rapid drop. He’s worried that his chin will smack onto Ronan’s head or that he’ll accidentally hurt Ronan in some other way. Once he’s falling he’ll be out of control. He _hates_ being out of control.

“Yeah, just give me a second,” Adam pants. He tells himself that the drop isn’t that bad, that Ronan is there, that it will be fine. He lets go.

Adam doesn’t fall though he nearly topples over. Ronan has a death grip on his thighs, keeping him still. Slowly, Ronan lowers his arms – and Adam – until Adam can rest his hands on Ronan’s shoulders again, until his feet touch down. Ronan lets him go but Adam doesn’t move. They remain like that, perfectly aligned, bodies flush together and Adam’s heart, instead of slowing, ramps up. He’s holding his breath and waiting, waiting for Ronan to step back or to… to…

Ronan reaches up and slides his fingers into Adam’s hair. It’s such a gentle gesture that Adam’s not prepared for the way he wants to melt right then and there. Ronan’s eyes meet his and it’s all electricity and fireworks and—

“You have lichen in your hair,” Ronan says, fluffing out Adam’s locks. “And a bit of dirt just there.” He licks his thumb and rubs under Adam’s chin before stepping back and giving Adam an appraising look. “Damn… you got dirty quick.”

Adam looks down and is appalled at the smudges of soil and green stains all across the front of his white tee and his nice jeans. Ronan, meanwhile, looks fine, except for the dirt on his shoulders where Adam stepped on him.

“What a mess,” Adam moans, trying to swipe off some of the grime.

“Yeah, but a hot mess,” Ronan winks. Ronan turns and walks back to the car, and Adam’s left staring after him, his mouth hanging open.

“Come along, Adam,” Ronan calls, “we’re on a date! We have berries to pick and rivers to find!”


	5. Heavy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy is a wash cycle. There's nothing heavy about this update except the sexual tension ;)

It turns out that Ronan is an expert on berry picking. As they drive along the scenic highway he gives Adam a mini-lecture about which berries are in season and where they’re likely to find them.

“How do you know so much about this?” Adam asks. Ronan strikes him as the type to never eat fruits or vegetables, and certainly not the type to go foraging for them in the wild. He has a hard time imagining Ronan doing something as ordinary as cooking. If anything, this date is revealing how many of his assumptions about Ronan Lynch are false, and how much he wants to know all the details and secrets and stories that make up the guy sitting across from him.

“I was raised in the country so I spent a lot of time outdoors in the woods and fields,” Ronan explains. “My dad had a herd of cattle and other livestock which I helped take care of. I still live in the house I grew up in and I’m, well, I guess I’m a farmer.”

Adam blinks, waiting for the punch line. When it doesn’t arrive he laughs incredulously, giving Ronan a slow once over. “You guess you’re a farmer?” Adam asks.

“Well, yeah,” Ronan shrugs. “I’m still finding my way so I’m not a commercial farmer or anything. I mostly grow things for myself and raise cattle. That’s my favorite part, taking care of all the animals. Gardening is more Opal’s- uh, I mean my _assistant’s_ job.” Before Adam can ask about Ronan’s assistant Ronan asks, “What did you think I did for a living?”

It’s so embarrassing that Adam almost doesn’t tell him the truth. “I thought you were an underwear model.”

Now it’s Ronan’s turn to look nonplussed. “I- uh-,” Ronan splutters and rubs at the back of his head. “Really?!”

“Look, you had an entire load of really, um, unique underwear. An excessive amount of briefs.” Ronan snorts and smacks the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Oh, come on,” Adam continues, “it’s not that farfetched. All I knew was that you were some really hot, arrogant guy with big city style, a lot of underwear, and a nice car. Put that all together and what would you assume? Probably not that you were a farmer.”

“Judgmental,” Ronan teases, pointing at Adam. Then, “So you think I’m hot?”

“God…” Adam mutters and casts his eyes towards the heavens. “Yes, okay? Yes, you’re exceedingly attractive. It’s really not fair.”

Ronan beams. “Exceedingly attractive. I’ll put that on my resume for when the farming venture implodes and I have to sell my looks to make ends meet.”

Adam rolls his eyes. “You still haven’t explained why you have so many briefs.”

“I like a colorful wardrobe,” Ronan replies with a cheeky wink.

“Uh, right.” Ronan’s jeans and shirt are both black and his boots are black. Which leaves Adam with a strong desire to know what color Ronan is wearing under his pants. Magenta? Teal? Baby blue? Neon green?

“Some people want a fresh pair of briefs for every day of the week,” Ronan continues, “but I like one for every day of the month. Saves me from doing laundry all the time.”

“Are they all labeled then?” Adam asks. “You know, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Or is it a numerical system?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” Ronan answers with a devilish smile. Adam shoves Ronan’s shoulder playfully. All of his comebacks are more puerile than clever so he keeps them to himself, trying to work out a good response.

Ronan drives at an easy pace and the scenery slips by. Their berry-picking destination is miles away so Adam quizzes Ronan on farm life, learning about his day-to-day activities. It soon becomes apparent that Ronan is independently wealthy, that he lives “mostly” alone whatever that means, and that he has far too much free time on his hands. Basically they couldn’t be more different if they tried.

Ronan asks about Adam’s summer plans and college. It’s sort of nice to lay it all out for someone who is ignorant of his past and family drama. He explains that he’s putting himself through college and is not only working this summer but is also taking online classes. Ronan’s curious about his majors and minors, expressing admiration at Adam’s ambitious course load and his on campus job at the library.

“Do you ever sleep?” Ronan asks.

Adam laughs but there’s little joy in it. “I cut out most of the fun, extracurricular stuff so yeah, I manage about seven hours a night. I used to be a real insomniac in high school, though. It was so shitty that I swore when I got into college I would take better care of myself.”

Ronan nods and drums his thumb on the steering wheel. “Me and my high school roommate, Gansey, never got much sleep either. But it wasn’t because we were hardworking mini-adults like you.” He nudges Adam’s arm. “I spent most of my time racing and drinking; Gansey spent most of his time thinking and worrying and researching.” The fondness in Ronan’s voice makes Adam want to ask more about Gansey, especially since the guy is one of Blue’s boyfriends. He wants to know more about Ronan’s illicit racing. He’s greedy for insights into Ronan’s past, into his present. But again Ronan seizes the opportunity to ask him more questions. “So…” Ronan asks, “what sort of fun stuff did you cut out?”

“Dating, for one,” Adam answers, his eyes locked onto Ronan’s face, anxious to see how he will respond.

“Oh.” Ronan tightens his hands on the steering wheel and swallows. “So this is…”

“The first real date I’ve been on in years?” He watches Ronan’s throat work as he swallows and it makes him want things, makes him feel parched. “Yeah.”

“Damn.” Ronan’s voice is a little raspy. “Man, that’s like…” Ronan waves a hand in the air, gesturing or trying to corral words. “Well shit. I’m really fucking honored.”

Adam flushes and picks at the dirt smudged on his new jeans. He has no idea how to respond to that so he just nods and offers a shy smile. What is it about Ronan Lynch that makes him feel both bold and bashful? It’s like they’re continually testing one another, pushing and prodding… no, Adam shakes his head because that just sounds dirty.

“Oh, look,” Ronan announces, interrupting Adam’s train of thought, “we’re here.”

Here turns out to be a very popular destination: a wide stretch of tumbling meadows that are criss-crossed by a network of paths. Dozens and dozens of people roam through the meadows, and the parking lot is nearly full, as is the one on the other side of the road. To the left is a restaurant/camp store/filling station and a museum and nature center. Ronan parks as close to the restaurant as possible and gets out.

Adam follows Ronan inside and browses the shelves of camping supplies while Ronan finds a pail, bottles of water, and fudge. He purchases them from a friendly, older woman whose accent is as thick as Adam’s. She calls Ronan “honey” and tells him to watch out for bears, ticks, snakes, and all manner of unpleasant things. Ronan thanks her and looks around for Adam, grinning when he spots him lurking by the firewood.

“I got the necessities,” Ronan says showing Adam the pail of supplies. “Do you need anything?”

Adam shakes his head. Most of the items in the store seem like overpriced tourist souvenirs or overpriced outdoorsy gear that he’ll probably never need. They head out of the store and Ronan puts Adam in charge of their pail while he makes a detour to the restroom. Adam surveys the parking lot and the steady stream of campers and tourists. When has he ever done something like this? During high school he was too busy and now that he’s in college, well, his life isn’t as dire but he still doesn’t have much free time.

The truth, as embarrassing as it is, is that he’s never done something like this. His dates with Blue were mostly things like sharing pizza and gelato or going swimming at the river. They quickly found out they weren’t as compatible as they thought they were and the dating ended and they went back to being friends who hung out when they had time. As for college… there had been a few painfully awkward coffee dates and one god-awful movie date with a guy from his chem class. He had only gone because Blue told him that he should try but he hadn’t felt anything for those people, not like what he was feeling for Ronan.

Ronan returns and Adam takes his turn using the bathroom because even though he could totally pee in the woods it doesn’t seem like proper first date behavior. Adam checks his reflection in the mirror, wiping off some dirt that had somehow gotten on his neck. His hair is a mess from riding in the car with the windows down but his shirt – he frowns at the stains – is ruined. No amount of treatments is going to fix this. With a sigh Adam washes his hands and runs his wet fingers through his hair, trying to make the best of it.

When Adam exits the bathroom he finds Ronan studying the Skyline Drive map, his forehead creased. Adam comes up behind him and looks over his shoulder. He’s standing closer than necessary but he can’t help it; Ronan looks entirely too good and Adam is still feeling that heady charge and attraction from their tree climbing adventure.

“What are looking for?” Adam asks and Ronan startles, bumping into Adam and whipping his head around so fast that Adam doesn’t have time to dodge. Their foreheads knock together, noses only just spared from a painful collision, and lips coming so close together that if Adam puckered he could kiss Ronan. He doesn’t, of course, because they’re both backing up, palms to foreheads, eyes watering.

“Ow,” Adam whimpers and Ronan swears quite loudly, earning death glares from the parents of small children.

“God damn,” Ronan mutters, rubbing his forehead. “You okay Parrish?”

“Fine, fine,” Adam groans. He’s so embarrassed he can’t look at Ronan right now.

“Here, let me see,” Ronan says. He cups Adam’s chin and raises his head up, moving into Adam’s personal space, making Adam’s heart go crazy with the desire to just lean in and kiss him, right here in the parking. Ronan’s blue eyes are hypnotizing and Adam knows he should blink or breathe but he can’t. “Hmm,” Ronan muses, “you got a red spot right here,” he gently taps his finger against Adam’s temple, “but it’s already fading. I probably got one too, right?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, “right there.” He grazes his thumb above Ronan’s eyebrow. “Does it hurt?”

Ronan shrugs. “It stung at first but not now.” His eyes flick down to Adam’s lips and then back up to his eyes.

“Guess you have a hard head,” Adam teases. He reaches up and rubs the palm of his hand over Ronan’s shaved head. It’s something he’s wanted to do all day, okay, longer than that. The texture of Ronan’s buzzed hair against his skin is… it’s addictive. Adam could literally spend all morning scraping his hand against Ronan’s scalp (and tracing Ronan’s tattoo, teasing out the textures of Ronan’s skin, memorizing the lines of his body).

“Jesus,” Ronan hisses. He’s blushing bright red right down to his sharp collarbones. He puts up with the petting until Adam stops, looking like a flustered cat with its hackles up. “I hope you know,” he whispers into Adam’s ear, “that there’s gonna be major payback for that.”

“Oh?” Adam grins and trails his fingers over the back of Ronan’s neck to his shoulder and down his arm. It feels like playing with fire. He can’t get enough of it. “Can’t wait.”

Ronan shivers, eyes closing. “You are a menace,” he growls and grabs Adam’s hand, pulling him towards the road. Adam lances his fingers with Ronan’s and ducks his head, smiling so hard that he feels like his face will split.

They jog across the road and walk to the trailhead entrance to the meadows. Ronan consults the map again and leads the way to one of the less traveled paths. It’s hot enough outside that holding hands means that their palms are soon slick with sweat but Adam doesn’t want to let go and it seems that Ronan doesn’t either. Adam squeezes Ronan’s hand when a couple of hikers give them the side-eye, but then, to his surprise, they give Adam a thumbs up. Adam nods and smiles a little, almost skipping along beside Ronan.

Eventually they find some berry bushes and Ronan lets go of Adam’s hand so they can start picking berries. They meander along the path, plucking plumb blackberries and dropping them in the pail. The sun is merciless and Adam can feel it burning the back of his neck as he stoops to pick a handful of berries. Sweat trickles down his throat, soaking into his shirt, and when he looks over at Ronan he sees that he’s also flushed and sweaty, his long fingers stained with berry juice. Adam swallows hard and turns his head quickly before Ronan catches him staring.

Before long they’ve reached the edge of the woods and have left most of the hikers behind. In the shade of the trees Adam pops his neck and stretches. Ronan tosses him a bottle of water and Adam drinks about half of it in one go, spilling it down his chin and neck.

“Thirsty?” Ronan comments. His bottle of water is almost gone, too.

“Yep.” Adam licks his lips, enjoying the way Ronan’s expression tightens in concentration as he stares.

“So, where are we headed?” Adam asks.

Ronan blinks and coughs before answering, holding a branch up for Adam to duck under it. “There’s supposed to be a creek or river near here so I figured we can check that last part off our list.”

“I didn’t bring any swim trunks,” Adam comments, following Ronan down the sloping trail, stepping over tree roots and slipping on loose pebbles.

Ronan’s smile is sharp and daring as he turns to look at Adam. “I didn’t either.”


	6. Rinse

There is something hypnotic about the way the dappled sunlight slides over Ronan’s back, the way he moves with such purpose through the trees, his dark clad figure always in front of Adam, leading. Or it could be heat exhaustion.

Ronan starts whistling, a tune that’s quick and jaunty and reminds Adam of something that would be playing in a pub. _Yet another hidden talent_. Adam speeds up his pace to catch up to Ronan. “What are you whistling?” he asks.

Without missing a beat Ronan switches from whistling to singing and Adam nearly trips over his feet because _holy shit_ Ronan’s voice is amazing. Okay, it’s not studio contract amazing but it’s rich and impressive and Adam can’t believe Ronan is singing to him right now.

“ _…on the rocky road to Dublin a-one, two, three, four, five, hunt the hare and turn her down, the rocky road and all the ways to Dublin, whack follol de-dah!”_ Ronan concludes the song. He smiles cheerily at Adam who claps enthusiastically. “Thank you, thank you,” Ronan takes a mock bow, “I’ll be here all week.”

“That was really great!” Adam says. “I didn’t expect you to be a fan of, umm, traditional music.”

Ronan strips some leaves from a tree as they wander down the trail and starts twisting the stems together. “It’s what my dad raised us on, me and my brothers. Sometimes, when I’m out in the woods like this, it reminds me of him and better days and then before I know it I’m whistling like some jackass.”

Adam nudges Ronan’s elbow. “Well I liked it.”

Ronan’s grin is easy as he takes the leaves, which he’s now twisted into a little arrangement, and tucks them behind Adam’s ear. “There. You officially have forest cred.”

“Is that like street cred?” Adam touches the leaves, wonders if they’ll be making flower crowns next. He thinks Ronan would look nice in a flower crown.

“Oh yeah, but it’s more difficult to get forest cred. Usually it involves like a spirit quest or survivalist camping. I’m giving you a pass because I’m basically forest royalty.” Ronan spreads out his arms, nearly smacks his hand on a tree, his gesture trying to convey that this is his kingdom.

“Are you now?” Adam teases. “I feel like I should pay some tribute for trespassing in your domain.”

Ronan laughs, spinning around to walk backwards down the trail so he can look at Adam. “We’ll get to that tribute later. But now I’m curious, top five favorite bands or musical artists. Go.”

“Ahh…” Adam looks down at his hands like the answer will be right there. It isn’t. His relationship with music is complicated. He’s never had a radio because he couldn’t afford the expense and even if he could, when he was living with his parents he wouldn’t have been able to listen to what he wanted. Most of the music he likes are songs he’s heard working at Boyd’s. College has, of course, introduced him to more styles and eras of music but _time_. There’s never enough time. “I guess, Dolly Parton.” Adam mumbles.

Ronan’s sharp eyebrows are communicating massive surprise but Adam forges ahead. “Johnny Cash, David Bowie.” The names are escaping him so he finishes with, “You know oldies, some classic rock. I mostly listen to classical music now, it helps me study.”

Ronan stumbles on a tree root and has to turn around to watch where he’s going. “I’m not sure how Bowie ended up in your repertoire,” he comments.

“I don’t know,” Adam muses. He watches the light shine on the curve of Ronan’s ear. “I heard ‘Heroes’ one day while I was working in the shop and it sort of got to me, you know? It was like light breaking in when you thought it would be dark forever.” He swallows the thick feeling in his throat, looks down and blinks back the sting in his eyes. When he looks up Ronan is right there. They nearly collide _again_ and it’s all hands gripping elbows, forearms, and sharp inhalations.

“Jesus,” Adam breathes, his heart tripping. Ronan is looking at him like… like he’s trying to peer into every secret Adam’s ever had, like he’s trying to see that moment of the David Bowie Great Awakening.

“You—” Ronan’s mouth twists as he searches for words. Adam’s powerfully aware of Ronan’s hands cupping his elbows, of Ronan’s pulse against his skin, of Ronan’s warm, sweaty scent. This is the closest they’ve been to hugging, maybe to kissing. Adam tries to not think about that too much or he’ll just do it. “You are not what I was expecting.”

Adam licks his lips, wishing he had some more water. “What were you expecting?”

Ronan’s thumbs press against his skin once before he lets go. Adam swallows his disappointment, which is short lived because Ronan takes his hand and they resume their hiking. Adam thinks he can hear the river.

“I thought you would be a college guy,” Ronan admits. Adam scoffs and Ronan backpedals. “I mean, you are a college guy! But I thought you would be all snobby about shit like music and movies and books or whatever. Like you might judge me because I’m not doing the college thing.”

“Not everyone _needs_ to do the college thing,” Adam points out. “Like you. You seem pretty set, you have a home and money and you like your farming gig, right?” Ronan nods. “That’s great but I _had_ to get out of Henrietta and make my own way. I have dreams and getting a college degree is the first step in making them a reality. My life… hasn’t been easy.”

They’re wandering into deep waters and Adam’s not ready for it yet so he steers them back to Ronan’s original question.

“So, what music do you listen to?”

Ronan squeezes his hand and prattles off a long list of groups that Adam’s never heard of. “I’ll make you a mix tape,” Ronan promises. “Or a playlist. Do you have something to listen to music on?”

“My computer or phone,” Adam answers. “So a playlist would be best. The radio in my car was stolen ages ago and I haven’t felt like replacing it.”

Ronan starts singing (or is it rapping?) some song about car radios and silence and thinking. Adam drifts closer so their hips and shoulders occasionally bump. He wants to do that thing that couples do and slide his hand into the back pocket of Ronan’s jeans. But they’re not a couple, are they? And he should definitely ask first and he _cannot_ ever imagine being able to casually ask ‘Hey Ronan, mind if I grab your ass? For science?’ Nope. Not happening.

Thankfully the trail finally finds the river – more like a stream – and Adam’s sufficiently distracted from Ronan’s posterior and  _everything_ , at least temporarily. Ronan leads the way off the trail and along the stream, explaining that there’s a swimming hole a little farther down. Adam tests the water and shakes his fingers rapidly, the temperature cold enough to make the hair on his arm stand on end.

Sure enough they end up at a small (very small) swimming hole. There’s no beach but there is something of a clearing, an area of long, green grass in the sea of trees. Adam pauses to take in the tranquil scene but Ronan is all action, setting down their pail of berries and stripping off his shirt.

Adam nearly has a heart attack when he gets a look at Ronan’s tattoo. It’s _huge_. His back is more ink than flesh tones and Adam’s drawn forward to get a closer look at the design.

“Hey.” Adam almost doesn’t recognize his voice. It’s all embarrassingly husky. Ronan’s got his jeans unbuttoned when he turns around and now Adam really is about to die. “Your tattoo.” _Oh god keep it together Parrish_. He coughs to try and get his voice back to normal. “Can I…” Adam gestures with his hands, hoping he can convey what he wants without having to say it.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course.” Ronan’s ears are pink, possibly from sunburn, possibly not. He spins back towards the river, hands plucking at the pockets of his jeans. Adam takes a steadying breath and steps forward, his hand shakes a little as he reaches for Ronan’s back.

He doesn’t know why he thought the tattoo would feel different. He trails his fingertips over Ronan’s shoulders and down his spine, feeling smooth skin and then dimpled texture as Ronan’s skin prickles with goosebumps. Ronan shivers and Adam resists the impulse to wrap his arms around him and… and… is it weird that he wants to put his mouth to Ronan’s skin? He always thought the idea of oral fixations was kind of gross but he gets it now, he wants to suck at the curve of Ronan’s shoulder or the arc of his neck where the far-reaching tendrils of the tattoo extend, bursts of feathers and leaves.

“This must have hurt.” He doesn’t know why he chooses to say that when there are so many other things to say.

“It did.”

Adam appreciates Ronan’s honesty, that he doesn’t try any macho posturing. Adam places both of his palms on Ronan’s back and it feels so good to connect, to touch, even for a moment. “I love it.” Adam drops his hands and watches the tremor that makes Ronan’s shoulders quake. It stirs the white-hot feeling in his chest. He thinks  _I made that happen, I made him feel something._

“I have a feeling,” Ronan says as he kicks off his boots, “that you’re going to be a lot of trouble, Adam Parrish.” He doesn’t even pause before unzipping his jeans and dragging them off.

“Pink,” Adam says faintly, feeling like his head or heart or entire body is about to spontaneously combust. His eyes don’t know where to look but they keep fixating on Ronan’s ass, clad in skin tight pink briefs, the Kalvin Clein letters sparkling with glitter.

“Hot pink,” Ronan corrects. He turns and Adam knows his face must be just as pink as the briefs.

“Oh my god,” he splutters, covering his eyes but peeking through his fingers. “You could totally be an underwear model.” He can’t hold back his groan and Ronan looks so delighted it isn’t fair.

“Okay, I showed you mine,” Ronan says, “your turn.” Adam doesn’t know how Ronan can be standing there, for God and all the world to see, in only his briefs.

“I, uh, my underwear are not that… impressive,” Adam stalls.

Ronan rolls his eyes. “If you think I care what your underwear looks like then you are very much mistaken.”

Adam isn’t sure how he ended up in a stripping contest on the first date, or how he ended up in the middle of the woods stripping but he’s committed now. He takes off his shoes first, sadly scuffed from their hike, then peels off the ruined T-shirt. He lets it fall to the ground and fights the urge to cover his chest. Ronan stares and Adam’s fingers feel completely useless as he struggles with the button and fly of his jeans but he finally gets the pants off, until he left wearing only a pair of faded black briefs. He deliberately does not look at Ronan as he stands there, shifting from foot to foot.

“Okay,” Ronan says, _finally_. “I feel like you’ve been selling yourself short.” There’s a strain in Ronan’s voice that is so damn sexy that Adam risks looking at him. It’s like… like stepping outdoors after being in a cold, darkened lecture hall and feeling the light and the heat slam into your body. That’s what Ronan’s regard feels like. Ronan takes a few steps towards him, cocks his head to the side and smiles. “Never would have guessed you were hiding all this under those baggy clothes.”

“Hey,” Adam responds, “I like my clothes to _breathe_ , thank you very much.”

“Uh-huh.” The teasing helps. It loosens up the paralyzing feeling of being mostly naked; it eases the vibe away from _sex in the trees_ to playful. Ronan strides towards the stream and _damn_ just… _DAMN_. “C’mon, Adam. Last date objective: take a swim or get a tan. Don’t make me endure this hellish water by myself.”

Being baptized in frigid water is the last thing Adam wants but it may be what he desperately needs after that amazing view of Ronan. He hurries over to the stream, passing Ronan, and takes the plunge.

“FUCK!” Adam yells as he resurfaces, treading water and squeezing his arms around his chest. His teeth are chattering and all he can do is whimper obscenities. Why did he think this was a good idea?

Ronan is laughing, both feet planted on the edge of the swimming hole.

“Your turn,” Adam stutters, standing up and moving towards Ronan. The only thing hotter than the sun is the look in Ronan’s eyes. Getting soaked in an ice bath is worth it, just for that.

“I don’t know,” Ronan hedges. “I might stay up here. Get a tan. Lord knows I need one.” He holds out his arm in evidence, though it’s as pale as the rest of him. Adam can see the blue veins running up Ronan’s muscular legs, over his ribs and chest to his neck. This is what people mean when they talk about translucent skin. Only the tops of Ronan’s shoulders, his neck, and face bear a pink tinge from the sun.

“I think you should join me,” Adam says. He moves to stand right in front of Ronan, his head reaching just above Ronan’s knees. Looking up is a dangerous move but he does because… well, he can’t help it. Ronan’s mouth has dropped open and his cheeks are burning red red red. Adam slides his hands up from Ronan’s ankles to his calves, gripping behind his knees.

“Adam?” Ronan’s voice breaks and Adam smiles his most villainous smile before pulling Ronan off his feet and into the pool.

Ronan lands with a loud splash, showering Adam with icy water, before he breaks the surface, howling and swearing. Adam, feeling delirious from the cold or from Ronan, laughs and laughs, even with his teeth chattering. He tries to make a break for it and exit the swimming hole but Ronan grabs him around the waist and pulls him back in. They both go under the water, grappling, and come up for air wrapped in each other’s arms, shaking and giggling.

“Oh my god it’s so cold!” Adam yells. He holds Ronan close, arms practically locked behind his back. “This was a terrible idea!”

“I don’t know,” Ronan voice is bordering on ecstatic, “you’re hugging me. I think that’s an improvement.” Ronan rubs his back for emphasis and Adam snuggles in closer. Under the water their hips press together, legs brush. Adam doesn’t know whether to curse Noah for coming up with this idea or thank him.  

“Ughhh,” Adam groans, “I can’t feel my toes. Can we get out? Please? Tan time?”

Ronan’s shivering pretty hard and admits that yes, they’ve reached their swim time quota. They help each other out and stand on the grass, shaking, before Ronan retrieves his shirt and tosses it to Adam.

“Dry off as much as you can, that should help you get warm faster.”

“What about you?” Adam asks. He buries his face in the warm fabric, getting a powerful whiff of Ronan’s scent. It’s not bad.

“I’ll use it after you.” Ronan shakes his arms and legs like a dog getting out of a bath. It’s so amusing that Adam snorts and has to look away.

Soon they’re mostly dried out and sunning themselves. Other than his damp briefs Adam feels really great. The sun beats down on his closed eyelids, creating patterns of veins. The grass feels good, not scratchy, and the smells of the woods and the stream and Ronan are all around him. He never thought that spending a day in the mountains could be so fun and relaxing.

“Hey Adam?” Ronan’s voice is close as they’re only lying a few inches away from each other.

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking… it’s time for your payback.”

Adam opens his eyes and turns on his side to look at Ronan. “My payback?”

“Uh-huh.”

“For what, exactly?”

“For molesting my scalp in public.”

Adam blushes. “Right… that. What did you, uh, have in mind?”

Ronan sits up, blades of grass stuck to his skin, and crosses his legs. He places his T-shirt, now neatly folded, over his knee. “To return the favor, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Ronan sings is "The Rocky Road to Dublin" by The Dubliners


	7. Tumble Dry

At some point Adam knows they’re going to have to get up and get dressed and hike out of the woods but right now he can’t even consider it. Ronan’s fingers tangle in his damp hair, massage his scalp, brush against his ear. Each touch is intentional and playful and good and Adam sinks into the feeling.

He had been hesitant about laying his head on Ronan’s thigh at first and he couldn’t relax for anything. This was totally foreign; he had never been so vulnerable with someone, not even Blue. But something about Ronan fluffing his hair and humming, his body at ease beneath Adam, had calmed him. They had eaten berries for a time, emptying the pails and staining their fingers with juice, and then Ronan went back to playing with his hair. Now Adam feels like he could fall asleep just like this, warmed by the sun, tired from a day of unexpected activity. It’s so restful and quiet…

A puff of air blows against his eyelids, surprising Adam enough to open them. Ronan’s face is bowed over his, vibrant blue eyes staring down at Adam with a look of contented wonder. Adam blinks rapidly, his face heating, pulse spiking in his throat.

“Ah…” Adam has no idea what to say.

“You had an eyelash,” Ronan says and points at his own eye, “right about there. Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you were asleep.”

Ronan hasn’t moved away, he’s still poised over Adam, rubbing his thumbs in circular patterns over Adam’s temples. It’s incredibly soothing, or it would be if Adam wasn’t feeling all shook up over Ronan looking at him like that.

Adam reaches up and takes Ronan’s wrist, just so he can feel the steady patter of Ronan’s pulse.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Adam murmurs. He draws Ronan’s wrist to his mouth and kisses it because, because… Ronan’s pulse races beneath Adam’s lips, and Adam wants to trace the beat to Ronan’s heart and neck.

Ronan sighs and his fingers caress the side of Adam’s face. He leans down until the tips of their noses brush, until his lips press against Adam’s brow for a long moment. Adam pulls Ronan’s hand down until his palm is touching Adam’s chest, resting over his heart.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Adam whispers. “How could I sleep when my heart is pounding like this?”

There’s an audible hitch to Ronan’s breathing as he spreads his fingers over Adam’s chest. Adam smiles a little and meets Ronan’s gaze. There’s so much emotion in Ronan Lynch’s eyes. How is this the same guy he met in the laundromat, who had teased him and acted like an asshole?

“I…” Ronan stops, licks his lips and tries again. “I want to kiss you.” The heat rising from his body practically scorches the back of Adam’s neck, but Adam knows he’s not cool and composed either, especially when Ronan’s pinky is flicking back and forth against his nipple. _Stay calm, stay calm._

“Oh good,” Adam says, a little breathless. “Me too.” He doesn’t add _I’ve wanted to kiss you since you showed up on my porch this morning._ He doesn’t say a lot of things because Ronan is kissing him. _At last!_ Adam thinks and also _this isn’t a great angle._

Ronan’s lips are firm and a little dry and he kisses like he’s still asking for permission, slow and hesitant, testing Adam. It’s a nice intro but Adam wants more, can feel the tremble in Ronan’s hands communicating barely restrained need. Ronan pauses, his breath warm on Adam’s cheek and Adam presses his palm to Ronan’s mouth to halt any more kisses – at least until he can navigate them into a better position.

He twists and sits up so that he’s mirroring Ronan, their knees touching. Seeing all of Ronan again – and those damn hot pink briefs – is almost more than Adam can handle, not now that he’s had a too brief taste of Ronan Lynch. He leans forward but Ronan’s not ready to give up his hand yet. Instead he licks Adam’s palm, sucks at the meaty part of his hand right below his thumb, nipping down gently before putting Adam’s thumb in his mouth.

Adam watches, mouth hanging open, heart thudding painfully. _What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing to me?_ He thinks frantically as Ronan’s tongue twines around his thumb, as Ronan sucks on his thumb. Adam shudders. Ronan pulls off his thumb with a quiet _pop_ and Adam thinks he’s done but Ronan kisses his palm again, open-mouthed and hot, his eyes shut and his face expressing something close to rapture. His tongue presses between Adam’s fingers.

“Ronan—” Adam gasps, swooning a little, his body moving towards Ronan like a moon yielding to an irresistible gravitational pull.

He’s not gentle or hesitant as he pushes Ronan back onto the grass, his hands grasping Ronan’s wrists and pulling them over his head. He’s not gentle when his mouth comes down on Ronan’s. His tongue grazes Ronan’s tongue and he tastes berries, sweet and a little tart. He feels a pang shoot through him, a pull like his inner self is being stretched and stretched. _Devouring_. That’s the impulse that’s taking over as he kisses Ronan breathless, his fingers squeezing around Ronan’s wrists.

Ronan tilts his head back and to the side so Adam can kiss him deeper. He doesn’t try to pull free of Adam’s grip or try to topple him. He lies in the grass like he would happily stay there all day, all night. He kisses Adam back, matching him in intensity. Their breaths come in shallow pants whenever they’re forced to pull away, each pause brief, a necessary if unwanted intermission.

Adam eventually slows the kiss, tries to scale back even though every part of him wants to keep rushing forward. He kisses Ronan’s jaw and neck and throat. It’s addictive, putting his mouth all over Ronan. _Just one more_ he thinks, kissing behind Ronan’s ear. _Just one more_.

Kissing is great but he wants to touch too, to have Ronan touch him, so he lets go of Ronan’s wrists and cups Ronan’s face in one hand, braces his other hand and elbow on the ground next to Ronan’s head.

“Okay?” Adam asks. He feels lightheaded, crouching over Ronan.

“Yeah,” Ronan answers. He shifts beneath Adam and brings his hands up to skim along Adam’s ribs and back, over and over again. Adam shivers and rests his forehead against Ronan’s. He can’t seem to catch his breath. His eyes slide shut and Ronan kisses him on the nose and cheek and mouth, his fingernails digging in at Adam’s vertebrae. It makes Adam feel weak, makes him want to collapse on top of Ronan and dissolve into his chest…

“Ronan—” Adam can’t believe the ache in his voice. “Ronan—”

A high pitched whistling cuts into the moment and Adam rolls off Ronan in an instant, pulling his legs up to his chest like some kid. Two college age girls come tromping by, lugging giant backpacks. They look like serious hikers, wearing plaid and khaki and real hiking boots. They nod at him and Ronan – Ronan who is still lying in the grass like he can’t be bothered.

“Howdy,” one girl says and her companion says, “Lovely day.” They’re both grinning hugely and Adam gives them a half-hearted wave and watches them move along, following the course of the river. As they disappear behind the bend and a stand of trees Adam hears their barely muffled laughter.

“That was fun,” Ronan says. He turns his head and smiles at Adam.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or serious,” Adam mutters as he crawls over Ronan to retrieve his shirt. Ronan smacks his butt and laughs when Adam splutters indignantly.

“Both,” Ronan says. He stands and starts brushing grass off his legs before tugging on his jeans. “It was fun kissing you.” Adam pulls his shirt on and Ronan ruffles his hair into place before kissing him soundly on the mouth. “And if anyone had to interrupt us I’m glad it was a pair of outdoorsy lesbians.”

Adam grins and wipes some grass off Ronan’s chest. “How do you know they’re lesbians?”

“Educated guess,” Ronan smirks. “Can you wipe my back off, too?”

“Sure.” Adam spends more time than necessary dusting bits of dirt and grass from Ronan’s back before tossing him his shirt. Finally Adam gets his jeans back on and ties his shoes. The sun has moved during their date and he realizes, suddenly, that he’s ravenous. The berries were a good snack but not enough to tide him over.

Ronan gathers their empty pails in one hand and holds out his other for Adam. Adam takes his hand and squeezes. Ronan’s holding the hand that he had practically made out with earlier and that gets Adam’s heart thumping all over again, especially when Ronan kisses Adam’s knuckles before leading them back to the trail.

They’re quiet on the climb up to the meadows, conserving their breath as they scale the steep incline. At the top, at the boundary of the woods, they take a break and look out over the sprawling meadows and the distant shape of the restaurant.

“This has been great,” Adam says, looking over to catch Ronan’s eye. “This morning, when you said you were kidnapping me, I had no idea it would turn out like this.”

Ronan laughs and scrubs at the back of his head. “I didn’t either. I was really nervous, actually.”

“You?”

“I thought you had probably dated lots of people and here I was bringing you McDonald’s and dragging you into the mountains. Doesn’t seem like the sort of plan to impress a college guy.”

Adam moves closer and slips his hand into Ronan’s back pocket. Ronan jumps a little and laughs again, bumping his body against Adam’s.

“Well I’m impressed,” Adam whispers into Ronan’s ear. He wants to kiss Ronan again, to push him against the oak tree behind them and keep kissing him. _Addictive_. He doesn’t want the date to end.

“You’re trouble,” Ronan says. He removes Adam’s hand and stares at him, a glint in his eyes. “C’mon, race you back to the car. Winner gets to make the loser do whatever he wants.”

“Oh, you’re on,” Adam replies. Ronan counts down from three and they take off across the meadow, their pace slowed to avoid tripping on plants or falling into holes. Ronan has the advantage of familiarity but Adam is motivated. He pulls ahead at the end, with a straight path to the BMW, and charges forward, slapping both palms on the front of the car before turning to greet Ronan, arms raised over his head in victory.

“I let you win!” Ronan pants, skidding to a halt in front of Adam. His face is flushed and a little sweaty.

“Sure, sure,” Adam teases, “if that helps you sleep better.”

“ _You_ would help me sleep better,” Ronan mutters as he unlocks the car. Adam’s not sure if he heard him right so he keeps his mouth shut, biting back a grin, as he gets in the car.

Ronan gets them back on Skyline Drive and the sedate pace is so at odds with Adam’s soaring heart that he almost fidgets. There’s this feeling beneath his skin that is driving him crazy, a feeling that’s been building all day, briefly assuaged at the river, but now clamoring with full force as he watches Ronan drive. Ronan behind the wheel is closer to asshole Ronan but he’s also effortlessly sexy.

The radio plays more of Ronan’s playlist and Adam knows he’ll never be able to hear these songs without instantly replaying this moment, this day. He doesn’t want to leave this moment behind. He doesn’t want the day to end.

“What’s next?” he asks, worried that Ronan will take him back to St. Agnes.

“Food,” Ronan answers, gripping the steering wheel, “then a surprise.”

“A good surprise?”

“The best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is kinda short and light on substance. I felt like the K-I-S-S-I-N-G was long overdue


	8. So Fresh & So Clean

Dinner ends up being Thai takeout that Ronan insists on buying. They stop at a roadside picnic area that has a spectacular view of the valley and eat, sipping on sweet Thai iced tea that tastes like heaven after a day of being in the sun.

Ronan eats pad thai out of the takeaway container with a pair of wooden chopsticks, the noodles trailing from his mouth. He catches Adam staring and blushes, trying to hide behind his hand.

“Quit staring, loser,” Ronan mumbles, playfully stabbing at Adam with his chopsticks.

Adam dodges and grabs another crispy spring roll, dipping it in the sweet, slightly spicy sauce, and takes a messy bite, letting the sauce drip down his chin. Ronan rolls his eyes and leans across the picnic table to swipe the sauce off Adam’s face and then licks his thumb clean. While maintaining eye contact with Adam. Adam nearly forgets to swallow.

“Were you trying to prove something, Parrish?” Ronan asks. He selects a piece of chicken and pops it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

Adam shrugs. “Just… no need to feel embarrassed around me. I’ve seen you in your hot pink briefs, heard you singing Irish folks songs—”

“And had my tongue in your mouth!” Ronan interrupts, winking.

“That too,” Adam grins. “So, clearly, we’re beyond typical first date worries such as feeling self-conscious about eating messy food.”

“Yeah,” Ronan concedes. “Except you’re being totally fucking proper.”

“I may have ordered sushi because I knew I wouldn’t make a mess eating it.” It’s Adam’s turn to wink. Sushi is a luxury for him and he’s only had it a few times before. It’s better than he remembered.

“Cheating,” Ronan grouses.

“Here.” Adam uses his chopsticks to pick up a piece of the Philly roll and holds it out for Ronan. “Say ahh.”

Ronan snorts but obediently sits forward and opens his mouth. “Ahhh.” Adam places the sushi in his mouth and waits as Ronan eats it. “Ohhhh…. Yummm,” Ronan groans; his enjoyment of food is borderline indecent.

“You’re a dork,” Adam laughs. He eats the last piece of sushi and drinks his tea while Ronan finishes off his pad thai.

“You’re just figuring this out?” Ronan asks. He gathers up their trash and takes it over to the nearest trashcan.

“Not gonna lie, when I first met you I thought you would be more…” Adam searches for the words. “Cool? Edgy? You came off like someone who wouldn’t laugh at himself.”

Ronan shakes his head. “I own a rainbow of boxer briefs, Adam, that should have clued you in.”

Adam grabs their drinks and follows Ronan to the car. “Well, that  _was_ confusing. Then I met you again, with Blue, and saw how y’all interacted. I started to realize that you were more than a pretty, entitled asshole.”

They get in the BMW but Ronan doesn’t immediately start the car. He taps the steering wheel and Adam’s suddenly worried that he’s offended him until Ronan smiles and turns to him, looking so good that it makes Adam want to grab his face and kiss him.

“And I realized that you were more than a stuck up, aloof college boy,” Ronan says. He reaches over and cups the back of Adam’s neck, pulling him close. Adam doesn’t even think about protesting the _stuck up aloof college boy_ comment. He closes his eyes and leans into Ronan. Their lips meet and they kiss, unhurried and gentle, until the heat in the car reaches intolerable levels. Ronan starts up the BMW and turns the AC on full blast. Adam feels drunk on kisses, or maybe it’s just post-dinner stupor from eating a calorie rich meal. All he knows is that he wants to kiss Ronan again and maybe get him out of his clothes. It _is_ sweltering in the car.

“Your cheeks are red,” Ronan says. He touches Adam’s cheek with his knuckles. “You’re really warm, too. You feeling okay? You’ve got this look…”

“I’m awesome,” Adam says with a lazy smile. “Could be heatstroke from this car, sunburn, or you making me really hot.”

“Oh my God.” Ronan flushes and takes the cool Styrofoam cup and presses it to Adam’s face. “You’re feverish. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Adam laughs and takes the cup from him, sipping on the sweet and creamy tea. “I know what I’m saying.” He twists around in the seat so he’s facing Ronan and fans himself. “Ronan Lynch you make me one big hot mess.”

“Oh my God,” Ronan says again. He sounds hoarse. “How do you expect me to live right now?”

Adam tilts his head and smiles fondly. “The same way I have to, now that I know how easy it is to get you worked up.”

Ronan groans and put the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking lot. He waves a finger at Adam as he gets them back onto the road heading towards Henrietta. “I’ll have you know that I am _not_ easy to work up. Like in general. I’m blaming your Henrietta accent.”

Adam chews on his straw and beams. “Is that so? I’ll have to read to you sometime. Maybe I’ll call you tonight and read you a bedtime story.”

“Yeah,” Ronan agrees. “I’d like that.”

—–

Adam falls asleep not long after they leave the picnic area and wakes up to Ronan shaking his shoulder. They’re not at St. Agnes, in fact Adam has no idea where they are, it’s unlike any place he’s ever been. There’s something intrinsically _different_ , it’s like he’s gone through the wardrobe into Narnia.

They’re parked in front of a handsome old country home, flowers growing all around it, spilling into the lawn that fades away into unruly fields. Adam climbs out of the car and spins around in a slow circle, taking it all in. There’s not another house in sight, no sound of traffic or the town, just the quiet rustle of the breeze blowing through the pines and oaks.

“Is this yours?” Adam asks quietly. Ronan nods, gazing out across the fields with a contented look on his face. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Ronan says, just as softly. “C’mon, let me show you around.” He takes Adam’s hand and leads him up the front steps to the porch and into the house.

The entryway is filled with natural light and Adam pauses to look at the family portraits, finding Ronan nestled amongst his family: baby Ronan, toddler Ronan, gap-toothed child Ronan, skinny adolescent Ronan. His elder brother looks just like him, if more serious, while their younger sibling is like a cherub, favoring their mother. Their father reminds Adam of Ronan, they look like they both are in on a fantastic secret.

Ronan doesn’t look at the pictures. He scuffs his boots on the floor and waits for Adam to finish his study.

“My parents are dead,” Ronan says but before Adam can respond Ronan shakes his head. “Not now. I’ll tell you… later.”

“Sure.” Adam takes Ronan’s hand again and follows him into a cozy sitting room. They tour the house, going upstairs and peeking into Ronan’s very messy room, then back down to the first floor to the library, the kitchen, and a small room that Adam thought was a closet.

“Surprise!” Ronan says, holding his arms out and gesturing to a brand new washer and dryer.

“This is the surprise?” Adam feels a little disappointed. True, he hadn’t been able to really imagine what the surprise might be but he definitely wasn’t expecting the surprise to be Ronan’s laundry room.

“Uh-huh.” Ronan hops up onto the washing machine. “After my last washer and dryer malfunctioned I had to replace them. I guarantee you anything you wash in this baby will turn out looking good as new. Like your shirt, for instance.

Adam plucks at his stained, dirty, sweaty shirt. It had been white when he had left St. Agnes.

“Is this just an elaborate ploy to get me undressed again?” Adam asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Yes! I mean, no of course not,” Ronan answers but his grin gives him away. “Listen, you can borrow some of my clothes while we wash yours. I would feel bad taking you home with a ruined wardrobe.”

“I bet you would,” Adam smirks. He grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head, shaking his hair out of his eyes. Ronan’s staring and it makes Adam’s heart speed up. He strips off his jeans next, then his socks, until he’s standing in Ronan’s laundry room in nothing but his briefs. The atmosphere feels more charged than it did in the clearing, maybe because he’s the only one undressed or because the room they’re in offers maximum privacy. It feels like anything could happen and Adam’s sort of hoping that something will.

“Right.” Ronan finally looks at Adam’s face again. “Okay. So we’ll just put your clothes in here and uh wash them.”

“Uh-huh.” Adam puts his hands on his hips and gives Ronan a bemused smile. “You have to get off the washer first.”

“Oh yeah.” Ronan jumps down. “Man, this is like déjà vu.” He opens the cabinet above the washer and pulls down a bottle of detergent. Adam moves into his space and drops his clothes into the machine and lingers at Ronan’s side while Ronan fumbles the detergent bottle open and pours in a lot of detergent.

“Don’t you think that’s too much?” Adam asks. “We’re not even washing a full load.”

“Hmm.” Ronan pauses to consider it. “Probably. You know, I could wash my clothes, too. They are sort of sweaty.”

Adam nods like this is a totally reasonable idea. It _is_ a totally reasonable idea. “Yeah, you probably should. Conservation and all that.”

“Right.”

They’re standing side by side staring at the washing machine, Adam mostly naked, Ronan _not_ at all naked. The tension is so sharp that Adam’s afraid to move, like one touch and the electricity will crackle into something wild and unpredictable. Which is ridiculous. They’ve done this before, not that long ago.

“Let me help,” Adam murmurs. He tugs at the hem of Ronan’s shirt and Ronan obliges and lifts his arms up and leans down so Adam can pull his shirt off. Adam tosses the shirt in the washer while Ronan pulls his jeans down and adds those. His hands tremble as he selects the wash cycle. It’s only now that Adam realizes that the machine has weird buttons; the one Ronan pushes is labeled _So Fresh & So Clean!_ The machine starts filling up with water and the room is suffused with the subtle, floral scent of detergent.

“Here.” Ronan scoots around Adam and opens the dryer, pulling out soft white sheets. He hands Adam a sheet and wraps the other around him like it’s a cloak.

Adam snickers and Ronan cocks his head to the side. “What?”

“You look like a kid dressing up as a ghost. Or maybe a new fraternity guy who’s too wasted to make a proper toga.”

“I bet you see that a lot.” Ronan watches as Adam ties his sheet into a decent imitation of a toga.

“Hmm. Not as often as you’d think. Usually it’s only during rush and the frat houses aren’t near my dorm. But there will be that one fraternity that gets wild and starts parading around campus. Last year a bunch of guys jumped into the fountain, without their togas. It was a scene.”

Adam knows he’s rambling but he can’t seem to shut up. Ronan’s moving closer and closer and Adam can hardly stand the suspense. Ronan touches his waist; Adam reaches for Ronan’s shoulder. For a moment they’re paused like two dancers in the midst of a waltz.

“Adam,” Ronan says. “Hey, Adam.” It sounds like a question and Adam already knows the answer.

Adam tilts his head up and Ronan kisses him, wraps his arms around him, bundles him to his chest, holding him tight. It’s like making out in Ronan’s bed somehow, the two of them wrapped in Ronan’s sheets, bodies pressed together. Adam tugs at Ronan’s lip and wonders if these were the sheets Ronan was sleeping in earlier this morning when he called and woke him up; he wonders _why_ the sheets needed washing and gets a thrill speculating about whether it had anything to do with him.

Ronan’s sheet is not secured the way Adam’s is and it begins to slip off his shoulders and down his back. Ronan doesn’t bother to hoist it back up, he’s too busy kissing Adam senseless, pushing him up against the dryer until Adam finally climbs on top of it and drags Ronan between his legs. The pulse in Ronan’s neck is fluttering wildly and Adam covers it with his palm, his eyes half shut, feeling the way Ronan’s heart is pounding as much as his. Ronan pushes up the sheet covering Adam’s thighs, his touch is light and barely there, a cautious exploration that makes Adam squirm.

“That tickles,” Adam says but he doesn’t tell Ronan to stop. He moves his hand down Ronan’s neck, following the lines of his tattoo, longing to touch it again. He lowers his head and kisses Ronan’s bare shoulder, sucking on the skin the way he wanted to when they were at the creek.

Ronan freezes, his fingers clutching at Adam’s sheet and a low moan escapes from his mouth. “Adam…” He ducks his head against Adam’s shoulder, breathing harder than he was a moment ago. Adam kisses the side of his neck, rubs his palm over Ronan’s scalp until Ronan is shaking and making a soft humming sound.

“Are you purring?!” Adam asks pulling away from Ronan to make sure he’s okay.

“Whaaa?” Ronan’s eyes are glazed and he blinks a few times like he’s coming back to himself. He clears his throat and tries again. “No?”

“You totally were!” Adam does an imitation and Ronan blushes so bad that Adam _has_ to kiss him again. “It’s okay,” Adam mumbles against Ronan’s mouth, “I really liked it.”

Ronan responds by tugging at Adam’s hips a bit too much and he goes sliding off the dryer, colliding with Ronan’s chest, and sending them both toppling to the floor. They lie there in stunned silence for a few seconds before Ronan starts cackling.

“What the fuck,” Adam moans, holding his elbow; it stings from knocking against the edge of the dryer on the way down.

“I don’t know, man,” Ronan laughs. “I never tried to make out with someone in my laundry room. This is new territory.”

They untangle themselves and Ronan helps Adam up. He ties his sheet securely around his waist, which Adam thinks is a definite improvement. His chest is flushed and he looks adorably flustered.

“Let’s get some ice cream and watch a movie,” Ronan suggests. “I feel like if I kiss you any longer I’m going to fucking lose it.”

Adam nods in agreement, feeling super pleased with himself. He doesn’t want to admit it but Ronan’s probably right. This _is_ their first date after all, no sense in rushing into everything, and certainly not on the floor of the laundry room.

Soon they’re curled up on the couch, bowls of cookies and cream in hand, and “The Thin Man” on the big screen. Adam leans against Ronan and smiles happily. After they finish their ice cream Ronan lays down on the coach, draping himself over Adam’s lap. Adam finally gets his wish and spends the rest of the movie touching Ronan’s back, his fingertips skimming over the design until he has it memorized. He barely attends to the movie, his mind preoccupied with tracing the tattoo and the series of events that have led him to this moment, to Ronan Lynch. It feels like a gift and Adam wonders whom he should thank.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @dkafterdark


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